


We Don’t Talk Anymore

by Freaky123



Category: cirque du freak
Genre: Arrow and Larten deserved better, F/M, Wanda vision quotes, i cried
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-19
Updated: 2021-03-19
Packaged: 2021-03-27 23:00:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,634
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30130185
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Freaky123/pseuds/Freaky123
Summary: In a moment of grief, an unexpected friend of Larten’s comes calling.
Relationships: Arrow/Sarah (Cirque du Freak), Larten Crepsley/Arra Sails, Mika Ver Leth/Arra Sails
Comments: 3
Kudos: 3





	1. Chapter 1

“Arra?” Larten whispered softly. It had been hours since she died, and her absence was- well- depressing. The two of them hadn’t seen each other in person for nearly half a century, but they still talked occasionally. 

Larten could feel the remnants of her laugh in his brain. It always sent a smile flying to his lips, as well as a jolt of dopamine to his brain. Talking in person was obviously preferred, but communicating via mental link was a different experience altogether. The two could talk for hours and no one would eavesdrop on their conversation. They would talk about anything from the weather to current happenings to the question that was always asked. 

“When are you coming back?” 

Larten always sidestepped that question. He hated it. He never planned on going back. He couldn’t face Seba after what he’d done to- 

“Larten?” Arrow asked after knocking. 

“Yes, Sire?” Larten asked. Ever so the respectful one, Larten, he heard Arra say in his mind. He painfully pushed the would-be memory to true back of his mind and tried to present himself in a respectful manner. 

He hadn’t showered since that day, and a toothbrush had not graced his pearly whites since gods knows how long. His clothing was wrinkled, bloodstained, and smelled of sweat, and yet he knew that Arrow wouldn’t care. 

“I heard about Arra,” Arrow said awkwardly. Larten nodded numbly. What else could he do? Scream that he was the one who caused her death?  
————————————————-  
“So the vampires send women to do their fighting now!” The vampaneze sneered. 

“Women are all the vampaneze are fit to face! You are not worthy of facing men and dying with honor. Imagine the disgrace when word spreads that you perished at the hands of a woman!” 

“That would be a disgrace, but it won’t happen!” 

“Arra! Do you need help?” 

“Not I!” She laughed, driving her chain at the face of the vampaneze. “I’ll finish this fool off before you can say-“   
————————————————  
Larten nearly screamed at the memory. Arrow must’ve read the expression on his face because he immediately drew the younger vampire in a rib-fracturing embrace. 

“It doesn’t go away,” Arrow said softly, “trust me- I know. It does get easier, in a fucked up sense. In the beginning every little thing will remind you of her- cologne, flowers, the wind- and it will be some of the worst pain you’ll ever experience. Over time, though, it dulls, and you can somewhat be a productive member of society.” Larten’s tears nearly spilled right then and there. He hadn’t cried in front of anyone, and he never planned to. 

“Does it ever get any easier?” Larten asked huskily. He could feel a lump in his throat, and he couldn’t tell if it was from Arrow’s lack of deodorant or the grief. Arrow gave a mirthless chuckle. 

“Yes and no. You think of her in a fond way instead of a heartbreaking one. Life goes on without her, and the memory of the two of you becomes nothing but that. It never gets easier, to tell you the truth- the grief is always there, but the pain diminishes over time.” Arrow paused for a second, as if thinking of something. “What is grief, if not love persevering?” 

“That was beautiful,” Larten said. Arrow gave a chuckle- this time it had humor. 

“It’s from a tv show that Mika and Kurda used to watch,” he said. 

“How is he doing?” Larten asked. 

“About as well as you are.” Arrow unwrapped himself from Larten and looked at the door. “Which reminds me that I need to check up on him. He’s probably too drunk to remember his own name.” Larten nodded understandably. “He wouldn’t mind a visit from you, you know,” Arrow said awkwardly, “he needs the company. And someone who knew her and loved her.” Larten nodded. He didn’t know what else to do. 

Arrow walked toward the exit. “You know where to find me if you need me,” he said matter-of-factly. His face and tone softened. “I mean it, Larten. Any time you need me I’ll be right here for you.” 

Larten tried to say something heartwarming, but the lump in his throat became too much. He let out a sob and felt the tears spill down his cheeks. After a few seconds he managed to collect himself. 

“Thank you.”


	2. Never Good with Words

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Larten’s hand hovered over the knocker attached to Mika’s door. He was never good with words.

Larten’s hand hovered over the knocker. It was undoubtedly expensive, and Larten had no idea how he had smuggled it into the mountain. Princes were frisked even more than regular vampires and Generals. Larten had once seen Mika get stripped naked and examined, and he wished he hadn’t. 

“Very thorough isn’t he,” Mika joked as a guard’s hands roamed places Larten had only dared to in his dreams. “Ow!” Larten had to suppress a laugh, but only because Mika caught him and glared at him. If looks could kill, Larten would’ve been dead ten times over. 

Of course, it was Mika’s turn to laugh as the ginger general was searched as well. Unbeknownst to him at the time, he got the “royal” search because he was optioned for Princehood. Now he understood. 

“Go away!” Mika hollered through the door. Larten frowned. 

“How did you know I was here?” He asked. 

“Because I can hear you touching my knocker,” he said. “I need some of that- what did Arrow call it?- oh, WD-40.” That last part was to himself, and Larten couldn’t help but suppress a smile. Still the same old Mika Ver Leth. 

“Can I come in?” Larten asked softly. 

“Are you stupid?” Mika snapped. Larten didn’t know what to say. 

“I-“ 

“I’ll take that as a yes.” 

Larten, who was simultaneously enraged and encouraged by the Prince’s statement, walked in without invitation. 

Mika’s head twirled around in shock. 

“What the fuck do you think-“ 

Mika’s eyes were bloodshot- tears and alcohol most likely- and his voice sounded as if he had been screaming for hours. His shirt was disheveled and he wasn’t wearing pants. His socks, however- the mountain was cold this time of year, colder than usual- were a vibrant cerulean blue. They were patterned with white and dark blue as well- what was it called? Darren had a jacket of that same pattern. 

Mika noticed Larten gazing at his socks. 

“A gift,” he said hoarsely. Larten shut the door as quietly as he could. 

“I am sorry for your loss,” Larten whispered. Mika gave a harsh chuckle. 

“My loss?” He asked incredulously. Larten saw the glint of a scotch bottle in his left hand. “My loss is incomprehensible, dear friend. I lost Arra-“ he let out a scream and buckled to the floor. 

Larten immediately rushed to his side and tried to console him. 

“Fuck,” Mika whispered after what felt like an eternity. “I’m sorry for that.” 

“Don’t be sorry,” Larten whispered. Mika immediately looked at him. 

“Are you okay?” Mika asked. Larten couldn’t tell him the truth. “Answer me,” Mika said firmly as he brushed tears from Larten’s cheeks. Truth be told, Larten hadn’t noticed they fell. 

“She wanted me to return,” Larten began, “and I-“

“I know,” Mika whispered. Larten’s throat had felt the return of that knot nestled somewhere between his mouth and stomach. 

“She loved you,” Mika whispered. Larten nodded numbly. 

“I am sorry for that,” he said, “I should have behaved better-“ 

“I wasn’t after Arra, you know,” Mika said softly. He combed his fingers through Larten’s hair to the right side- the side he preferred it on- and it felt oddly comforting to Larten. 

“Then who?” Larten asked before coming to the answer himself. He felt heat rising to his cheeks. 

“You’re adorable when you’re flustered,” Mika said with a slight laugh, “but overall somewhat imperceptive of other’s emotions.” Larten frowned slightly. 

“Did you call me stupid?” Larten asked. Mika gave a small smile. 

“If the shoe fits.” 

Larten felt the urge to lay on the prince’s lap, and was nearly aghast when he found out he had already done just that. Mika laughed and combed his fingers through Larten’s vibrantly orange hair. 

“You’re fine, Quicksilver,” Mika said softly. He smiled down at Larten before letting out a sob. 

Larten immediately reached for his hand and caressed it with his thumb. 

The two stayed like that for hours, and they both sobbed their hearts out. Somehow, they found themselves in a coffin, and Larten shed his pants as well. 

“Do you think it was my fault?” Mika asked as he caressed Larten’s face. “That he betrayed us.” Larten shook his head slightly. 

“No. None of us could have seen it coming.” Mika nodded, and then his eyes gazed off into the past. 

“I loved him,” he whispered. “Do you think he knew that?” Tears choked the rest of his sentence. 

“I think he knew that,” Larten murmured, “fuck that- I know he knew that you loved him. You were inseparable, Mika.-“ 

“-and I killed him, Larten. What kind of an anniversary present is that?” Larten felt his gut lurch. 

“Anniversary?” He repeated numbly. 

“Aye.” Mika buried his face into the crook of Larten’s shoulder. “I was supposed to propose to him that night, Larten.” 

Larten didn’t know what to say, so he stroked the man’s back. He was never good with words. 

“I loved him,” Mika whispered. He placed a light kiss on Larten’s neck, “just as I loved you.” 

“And I you,” Larten whispered back. 

——————————————————

“Called it!” Arra shouted. Kurda sighed and bit his lip. 

“There was no way to tell-“ 

“-no way to tell?” She asked incredulously. “No offense, but Larten and Mika exude homosexuality.” Kurda frowned. 

“How so?” Arra snorted. 

“The flamboyantly red suit-“ 

“-Seba wears red-“ 

“-and is Paris’s husband,” she interjected, “and Mika, well, is Mika.” Kurda nodded. 

“Fine. You win.”


End file.
